


My Love, He Knows

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bad Day At The Office, Greg knows how to make it better, M/M, Tired Mycroft is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft has had an awful day and all he wants is sleep and cuddles from everybody's favourite DI</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love, He Knows

Mycroft closed the door behind him as he came in. Well, more like he slammed the door but he would argue to his grave that it was absolutely necessary. His shoulders slumped and a clear expression of exhaustion washed over his face now that he could safely allow himself to let go at home.

He would have dropped his briefcase right there by the door if he was any other man but even in this state his mind was screaming warnings of confidential files, security risks, and simply being unkempt. Such a stupid subconscious reaction to have when he was at home. His security was infallible unless you were called Sherlock and the only other people with keys and codes to the place were his assistant and Gregory. The two were trusted implicitly.

Thinking of Gregory, he would have liked nothing more than to collapse into his partner’s arms and stay curled up with him all night. Unfortunately that couldn’t be done this day. Mycroft had received a text message littered with apologies from Gregory earlier that had informed him of the need to work late.

He had told the man all was fine and that he would have something to eat waiting for him in the microwave or the oven depending on what he decided to cook. Of course now all was not fine and he really didn’t want to spend any time in the kitchen that wasn’t spent making a good cup of tea. That did not in any way mean he wanted to worry Gregory while he was busy at work and he’d made a promise.

On his way to said kitchen Mycroft left his briefcase behind the door of his study to be dealt with later. Or not at all. He also shed his shoes, working the backs off with his toes as was very unlike him (afraid of scuffing the expensive leather) but he did place them together neatly by the coffee table in the living room.

Mycroft sighed and stretched as he entered the kitchen, then proceeded to remove his suit jacket and place it crisply on the back of a nearby chair. He checked the kettle for water before flicking the switch and turning to sit at the kitchen table to wait. He leaned forward on his elbows to rest his chin and, closing his eyes, he wiped a hand over his face.

The sudden pressure on his shoulder startled him so much that he jumped from the chair, his eyes now wide in an uncharacteristic shock, his arms spread in defence.

“Hey. Calm down, love, it’s only me.” The gentle voice of the man before him soothed. Mycroft’s hackles immediately deflated and his body almost gave out on him. It would have too if strong hands hadn’t guided him back to the chair he had vacated.

“Now that was new. You want to tell me what’s gotten you all wound up?” Greg asked as he took the seat beside him. “You look exhausted, My.”

Mycroft lifted his tired gaze to stare confused at the other man. “I did not expect you home quite so early.”

“It isn’t early.” The DI told him, sounding concerned now. “It’s just passed midnight.”

Greg took one of Mycroft’s hands in both of his own and rubbed gentle circles along his knuckles. “Midnight.” Mycroft repeated dumbly until it dawned on him belatedly. “Oh dear, I must have fallen asleep. I only meant to rest my eyes while the kettle boiled and I ended up dead to the world for three hours.” He rattled off the words without pause. “Oh, and look, you haven’t eaten anything since your pastry around lunch time and I failed to get us food for your return-”

Greg watched his partner flail to produce his sleep addled words until he noticed the man was winding himself up even tighter and he halted him with a chaste kiss.

“Hush, love. It’s fine. It’s all fine.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling, and brushed the back of his fingers down Mycroft’s cheek. “We can order some take away for tonight and you can tell me all about what’s got you in this state before I wrap us up for bed, yeah?”

His police training had not been for nothing. He could tell that Mycroft was hiding something other than his fatigue behind those glassy blue eyes.

Mycroft simply sighed again and offered his own smile, even if it only pulled at one corner of his mouth. How did Gregory always know? “Yes. Take away it is.” He had to hold back a yawn as he looked down to their clasped hands. “It has been a time since I have last felt so drained.”

Greg nodded and stood. He pressed his lips to Mycroft’s head before tugging on his hand. “I know, love. Come sit with me where it’s comfy and tell me all about what bastard made you feel like this.”

Mycroft followed because how did his Gregory always know?


End file.
